


Physical Assurance

by FollowerofMercy



Series: Obsessed with SU and Writing to Deal with the Wait [10]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Growing Up, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, familial cuddling?, good parent, of the nonromantic kind, the mother trucking caterpillar sleeping bag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22840219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FollowerofMercy/pseuds/FollowerofMercy
Summary: Steven goes to visit his dad after a nightmare.Canon-compliant (if unlikely) as of Prickly Pair.
Relationships: Greg Universe & Steven Universe
Series: Obsessed with SU and Writing to Deal with the Wait [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595188
Comments: 19
Kudos: 97





	Physical Assurance

Steven snapped awake, his hands flying to his mouth.

He threw himself off the bed the instant his body wrenched free of sleep, stumbling in the sheets wrapped around his limbs and neck. The house rang with the thud of him slamming into the floor, then the horrible scuffle as he kicked himself away from the clinging fabric.

Moonlight lay in strips in his immaculate room, just enough for the panicked man to find his sandals. He yanked them on and took the stairs three at a time.

Garnet stood from her place on the couch, visor lowered. “Steven.”

He ignored her, shouldered through the front door and jumped off the balcony.

“STEVEN!”

Steven touched down and took off, sand kicking up behind him as he sprinted along the waterfront. His senses trickled back as the sea spray bit his bare skin, his shirt balled at the foot of his bed. Soon the sound of waves drowned the mantra of _Protect Protect Protect_ that had seized his mind. He blinked into full consciousness in the soft moonlight, slowing his breakneck charge to a more reasonable jog. He hugged his arms to his chest, rubbing his shoulders as the night breeze raised goosebumps.

“Dad’s fine. He’s fine. It was a dream,” he muttered to himself, shivering lightly. “Just a dream.”

Just a nightmare that would plague his sleep until he went and checked.

Steven jogged towards Beach City, grateful that he at least slept in pajama pants.

Nobody was around to interrupt his quick trip through the boardwalk, all the shops and houses dark. He didn’t bother to appreciate the moon mirrored in the ocean or the scuttle of cats in dumpsters, the silvered clouds drifting on the horizon. Instead, he jogged to the carwash in record time and ran up to his father’s van.

Steven’s breath caught in his throat as he approached, scraps of his nightmare forcing their way to the forefront of his imagination - his father suspended by his hair, then his neck. Steven blinked the image away only for another to take its place, this time Greg’s panicked expression as a faceless gem hauled him to the dark maw of a ship. 

Steven reached the van. He stood on his toes to look in the back window, heart thudding.

There his father slept, comfortably swaddled in the softest blankets and comforters money could buy.

Relief washed over him and turned his knees to jelly. Steven covered his mouth to stifle a sob as he put his back to the van, wincing at the blistering cold. He slumped to the ground and pulled his knees to his chest, one hand twisting in his hair while the other remained at his mouth.

Should he wake him up? Was that selfish? Steven took a moment to get his breathing under control before he stood and looked in the window once more.

Greg looked so peaceful.

Steven let his forehead thud against the glass, his breath fogging. When he was little, Greg was always there after every bad dream, every imagined monster scratching at the van doors. Greg would curl up around his tiny body and hold him close, one massive hand on his back and the other cradling his head, surrounding him with safety and warmth. It had been… almost a decade since the last time they did that.

Steven sighed, then knocked on the window.

Greg stirred, obviously not as deeply asleep as he appeared. He blinked up at the window with bleary eyes before snapping to awareness. He scrambled to his knees and threw the van doors open. “Steven? What’s wrong?!”

“Hi Dad,” Steven croaked, shivering.

Greg ushered him inside and wrapped him in a blanket before hugging him tight, hooking his foot on the inside handle of the doors to close them. “You’re freezing! What happened?!”

Steven shook his head and burrowed into the hollow of Greg’s arm. “Nightmares. I just, I just needed to make sure you were ok.” 

“Oh… Steven.” Greg ran his hand along his son’s head, careful not to snag in the dense curls. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay. Do you want to spend the night?”

Steven glanced up from his shoulder, eyes bright in the gloom of the van. “…Do you mind?”

Greg laughed and hugged him tighter. “I’d love it. Here, let me get stuff set up for you.”

He turned and rooted in the front of the van, holding up a caterpillar sleeping bag and chuckling. “Think you’ll fit in this?” 

“Maybe, if I shapeshift.”

Greg smiled and delicately put the sleeping bag away. He rummaged around a bit more before he pulled out one of his old shirts. “Want something to sleep in?”

“I’m ok like this, if you’re ok with it.” Steven remembered his days growing up in the van, sweating buckets in the claustrophobic heat. It was always worse in the cooler months – too cold to crack a window, too hot inside to sleep comfortably.

“’Course!” Greg said and tossed the shirt back towards the front seat. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable? Sorry the van’s not really set up for two anymore.”

Steven adjusted to sit with the soles of his feet touching. “I think I’m good. Just wanted some company.” He looked around the van, getting a small smile at the memories scattered around. His nightmare felt so far away, here in his childhood home.

Greg flopped down next to him.

“Want to cuddle up like old times?”

Steven smiled and dramatically fell onto his dad, who grunted as the air was knocked from his lungs.

“You’re getting a little big for that.”

Steven chuckled and burrowed his way into a semi-comfortable position. It was weird, cuddling. He was painfully aware that he didn’t fit into the crook of his father’s arm anymore. The two men laid in an awkward, uncomfortably warm tangle. Steven’s left arm sprawled over his father’s chest while Greg’s elbow dug into the back of his head. Still, Steven relished the contact, the physical assurance of his father’s safety.

Greg rubbed his thumb up and down Steven’s arm. “I know you’re practically a grown man now. I don’t want to cramp your style or anything, but I really missed this.”

Steven smiled and rubbed his head against Greg’s chest. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

They laid like that for several minutes, each quiet save for the gentle sound of their breath. Steven willed sleep to take him, twitching every once in a while to find a better position.

He gave up on the fruitless endeavor and rolled away. “That was really nice, but don’t think I can sleep like that.”

“Oh thank goodness my arm was falling asleep.”

Steven chuckled and settled in, his back pressed against the wall of the van. He liked having something solid, grounding. Greg stretched out on his mattress and scratched his stomach. “You sure you’re ok over there? I can blow up the air mattress.”

“I’m fine.”

“Been awhile since we’ve had a sleepover.”

“Too long.”

Greg yawned, loud. “We should do something fun tomorrow, just me and you. It’d be nice to get out of the house for a bit.”

Steven rested his chin on his crossed arms, eyelids heavy. “I’d like that.”

Before he settled in to sleep, Greg rolled over and brushed a thumb over his son’s cheek. He pressed into it.

“Goodnight, Steven.”

“Goodnight, Dad.”

Steven turned to lay on his back, one arm propped underneath his head, unconsciously mirroring his father. His eyelids drifted shut as he idly traced the outline of his gem with his other hand.

His dad was safe.

 _He_ was safe.

“I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Schtu-ball.”


End file.
